


Penance

by trr_rr



Category: Hannibal (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Angst, M/M, Mental Health Issues
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-04-25
Updated: 2014-04-25
Packaged: 2018-01-20 18:37:55
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,971
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1521371
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/trr_rr/pseuds/trr_rr
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Matthew is almost out of rehabilitation.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Penance

**Author's Note:**

> This is going to get very angsty, very kinky and very distressing quite fast.

 

“Hello?”

“Mister Graham?” His voice was dry and sore.

“Hello? Who’s speaking?”

“I’m sorry.”

“ _Matthew_?”

“I’m sorry, Mister Graham…” There is a pained sigh from the other end of the line. “I’m so sorry, I tried, I really did.”

“Matthew? Where are you? Are you safe?”

\---

Will sat in the diner; his second cup of coffee swirled and steamed on the yellowed formica table. He’d chosen a booth out of the way, next to the wall, not the window.

He spotted him easily enough. He’d come in early, ten minutes early. He’d sat with his first cup and eyes that seemed nervous. By the time he’d ordered his second cup he seemed a little less restless.

Matthew knew this because he was sitting in the booth behind. Will didn’t recognise him with his hair grown out a little and his face covered in a patchy six month beard. The cap he wore hid his eyes from harsh fluorescent light.

Will had had his hair cut, of course. Inmates often cleaned themselves up better after a long stay than before they arrived. It says much about the character of a man when his mental health does not interfere with his need to look smart. Will Graham doesn’t think he needs his good looks to work his way into someone’s mind.

Matthew knows this because he watched Will’s appearance change. His dark eyes and gaunt, pale skin never interfered with his ability to manipulate. Will Graham is a singularly charming individual.

Matthew knew of no others. Or perhaps he could see no others, or perhaps they could not see him.

His rough brown jacket and well-fitting pants were soft, mute and understated, a much welcome change from the regulation jumpsuit and straightjacket.

“Mister Graham.”

Will turned and blinked.

“Matthew?” He asked quietly.

When the younger man nodded Will picked up his coffee and moved into the booth behind.

“I didn’t even recognize you.” There was an awkward pause as Will figured out the appropriate questions. “Where are you staying?”

“Oh, this rehabilitation place. They said I’m sick and I kinda have to go see their doctor all the time.”

“Yeah?” Will was wearing his glasses. Matthew appreciated this; as it meant, to Will, that he was something worth seeing.

“Yeah. I live in one of the wards. I’m pretty much an outpatient now, though.”

“You still have your own place?”

“There’s a halfway house not far from here. They say they might have a room for me when my bed is needed at the rehab place.”

Will looked down into his coffee, divining meaning, summoning his resources as best he could.

“I’m glad you called.”

“Yeah.” Matthew nodded. “Me too.”

“There’s a lot we need to talk about.”

“You can come back there, you know.”

“What?”

Matthew cleared his throat into his fist.

“The centre, we’re allowed guests in the rooms. For a little while, anyway.”

“Is that a good idea?”

Matthew just watched. He saw the new man that sat across from him and he saw hope for himself there. Will’s eyes were sharp and his mind was clear. His hair was charmingly combed and his clothes fit him well.

“Are you sure?” Will asked again. “Are- are you healed?”

He shrugged

“More or less. I’m glad your chief is a good shot. He coulda’ messed up one of my tats, and then I’d have been really upset.”

Will smirked.

“You have tattoos?”

“Oh, yeah.” He almost winked, almost. He settled on a smirk to mirror Will’s own.

Will let his eyes slip down Matty’s ratty denim jacket for a moment longer than he perhaps should have.

“You wanna come see where I’m staying?”

Will sipped his coffee. Maybe this hadn’t been such a good idea, there was something dangerous in Matthew’s friendship, maybe he shouldn’t get to close. What irked at Will’s inside the most though was how comforted he was by Matthew’s presence, like meeting an old friend, an old lover, someone who knew him intimately.

“Yeah.” He swallowed. “Yeah. I do.”

\--

Will had never been anywhere that smelled of death and industrial cleaner at the same time. All the walls were white washed. The windows wore heavy bars that had received a thousand layers of paint.

“What is this place called?” There had been no sign above the door.

“Our Lady’s Retreat. Aren’t many ladies here though, if you ask me.”

Will followed so quickly as Matthew pushed open pale blue hospital doors. They turned down corridors so fast he swore he would never remember his way back.

“This is mine” Matthew halted and dug out a key from his jacket pocket. “Number 224.”

The door opened and Will was invited inside.

It was one room. There was a bed, a side table and a window. The closet built into the wall had no door. Will could see all of Mathew’s possessions at a glance, it was frighteningly sparse, and he couldn’t pretend this wasn’t a hospital.

It seemed Matthew liked to pretend.

“You don’t have a house? Didn’t you have an apartment?”

“Yeah. I did.” He shrugged. “Court bills are expensive. So is the medication.”

“Jack told me about your trial.”

“Yeah, I just let my lawyer talk for me. She’s alright, have to take a lot of tests to get proven crazy, don’t you.”

“Yeah.” Will replied absently. “You do.”

Matthew took off his cap and laid it on the windowsill. He ruffled his hair a little, ridding himself of unsightly hat hair.

“Uh, you can sit down if you want.” Matthew gestured to the bed. “I’ll just stand here.” He leaned back against the window, watching Will with a tilt or his head.

“Matthew.” Will sighed, not moving from his spot near the door. “What did you want to talk about? You had something to tell me.”

Matthew swallowed, playing with his door key idly.

“Mister Graham.” Ha pressed his lips together. “I just wanted to say,” he struggled to get the words out of his mouth, “I’m really sorry.”

“That’s, it’s alright, Matthew. We were both in a different place, different mind-set.”

“I’m gonna try again when I get out.”

“What?”

“I know I can do better, Mister Graham. I promise you.” Matthew stood and approached. “I can do this. Please, trust me.”

“No, Matthew.” Will’s eyes were focused and clear in their honest intent. “Forget about my problems. That’s all over now.”

“Please, let me fix this.”

“There’s nothing to fix.” Will stepped back. “I’m not inside anymore. I don’t need your help.”

“I’ve been following your cases. I’ve been watching you grow. You’re so much more than you were before, please, let me help you.”

“I don’t need to be saved. I don’t want your help.”

“Then what do you want from me? What can I give you? Please, I need to make this right, I need to redeem myself.” Matthew held up his hands in askance. “I need you to forgive me.”

“No, you don’t, Matthew. You need to come to terms with what you did, we both do. That’s why I agreed to meet you. That’s why I came here. I need closure; I need to know this is over.”

Matthew bit his tongue, holding in his frustration.

“Ok.”

How was it that Matthew could hold all the hope of a child in his eyes and still be a fully grown killer? Will needed to know he would be ok. Will needed to know that this was no longer a problem.

Will needed to get out.

“Ok, so…” His eyes flicked around the room. “If there’s nothing you need, I’m gonna go.”

“Actually,” Matthew murmured, dejected over having to ask for help after being turned down, “I gotta move to this halfway house place, it’s only around the block but I got a few things to carry. You’ve got a car, right?”

Will hesitated.

“Yeah. Yes, Matthew, I have a car.”

“Would you help me move? It’ll only take an hour at most.”

Will nodded. “Ok.”

\--

They both stood outside Matthew’s new residence, a few days later, each with a box of Matthew’s belonging in their arms.

“This can’t be it.” Will sighed.

“Yep, this is the place.”

It was tiny, filthy and almost in disrepair. Again, there was no sign outside.

They pushed open the doors and were greeted by that smell of cooking and filth that accumulates in places that inhabit too many humans per square foot.

“Um, I think I’m up the stairs.”

\--

“Is that the bed?” Will asked, mortified.

“Looks like it.”

The room was tiny, even smaller than the one at the rehabilitation centre. The floor was bare, littered with scrappy carpet underlay, as though there had been a carpet at one time but it had become so filthy the building owners decided it was no longer worth the trouble.

The wallpaper was yellow but it had, at one point, been white. Will discovered this when he accidentally knocked a small mirror from the wall.

Matthew placed his two boxes down under the bed for now. Will had been right to be so disgusted, the mattress was damp. It wore various brown stains and when Matthew flipped it over, there were a lot of unidentifiable marks and odours.

It was clear that this room had been used time and time again by people who had no regard for personal hygiene.

“Well,” Matthew commented as he looked through the mouldy window netting, “At least I have a nice view.”

The place looked out over a park.

“I can’t believe this is where they’re putting you.”

Matthew shrugged.

“I don’t have any money and I’m not exactly employable at this current juncture.” He smirked, wiping his nose with a sniff.

“You’re going to get fleas.”

“Maybe.”

“Matthew.”

“Look, all I have to do is go to my meeting once a week and tell them that I’m working on getting better. That’s it.”

Will gave him a sceptical look.

“I’m gonna be fine, Mister Graham.” Matthew stepped forward and carefully touched Will’s arm. “It’s ok. I’m gonna be ok. You don’t have to worry about me.”

\--

“Hello?” Matthew answered, the woman who lived in the room on the ground floor of his building had shouted loudly up the stairs for him after the phone rang.

It was a public pay phone, the only one in the building.

“Matthew?”

“Mister Graham, hi, what’s up?”

“Matthew.” There was a weary sigh. “I keep thinking about you.”

Matthew grinned, cradling the phone closer with both hands “I think about you a lot too, Mister Graham.” He whispered, starry eyed.

The lady who’d alerted him to the call gave him an odd look before rolling her eyes and picking up her young daughter from the floor. She hoisted her onto one hip before giving Matthew a judgmental look and going back into her room. Matthew was sure he heard her lock her door behind herself.

“I can’t live with myself, knowing I’m partly responsible for where you are now.”

“Really?”

“I’m losing sleep.”

“Yeah, me too. There’s a lot of crying babies living in this place.”

“I want you to come live with me, Matthew.”

“What?”

“Just for a little while.”

“You want to live with me?” Matthew wasn’t sure he was awake.

“I’ve talked to your doctor. She says it’s manageable, and preferable to where you are now, as long as you keep attending your sessions. I’d be like your guardian. You’d have to sign some papers. I’d be responsible for you, Matthew.”

“You? Want to live with me?”

“I know I don’t have a huge house and you’d have to live with the dogs as well, if you don’t mind that…Matthew, are you there? Would you like that?”

Matthew sniffed loudly.

“As long as your dogs won’t mind my fleas.”


End file.
